


Starbucks Lovers

by jaerie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Job, College AU, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Strangers, theyre both students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaerie/pseuds/jaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He pushes the Starbucks door open hard, the momentum slamming it into the trash station on the other side.  All eyes are on him as he raises his voice, pulling the phone away from his ear.  “ARE THERE ANY GAYS IN THIS STARBUCKS??” his chest moving heavily than normal with frustration.  </p>
<p>He looks around, suddenly realizing the scene he has caused in his regular coffee shop, all eyes still on him.  A few beats pass and most of the customers turn their attention back to what they had been doing before the interruption.  </p>
<p>His shoulders begin to slump as out of the corner of his eye he sees a timid hand start to raise above his head.  It might just be the fact that he's sitting by the window, bright sunlight shining through the tinted glass, but his hair seems to shine like a halo, a beacon drawing him in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starbucks Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this prompt i saw on tumblr:  
> "au where louis is lonely and bored and hasn’t met anyone in a long time so he goes to a starbucks and yells ARE THERE ANY GAYS IN THIS STARBUCKS and no one moves until harry just timidly raises his hand and shrugs"
> 
> short but sweet. here it is.

“No Niall, you don't understand,” Louis huffs on the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leans against the pole on the bus, en route home after a long morning of classes. He was only met with his friend's -former friend after this obviously- loud cackles on the other end of the phone. Niall has been his sidekick since primary school but recently he has become beyond irritated with his friend's attitude towards his non-existent sex life. 

Niall, of course, never had any problems pulling. There seemed to be a new lady slipping out of his bedroom every few days. He had witnessed the ease of the straight bloke's mating call so many times he was starting to grow bitter. With his baby face and blonde hair, all Niall had to do was throw a cheesy pickup line and bat his eyelashes. The girls found him adorable and the next time Louis would glance over, they would already be in an obscene tangle of lips and tongues. 

His own choices, however, seemed to be more limited. Why had he chosen such a small university to attend?? 

“It's been nine months! NINE MONTHS!” he exclaims, blushing slightly as he realizes heads have turned to stare throughout the entire bus full of people. He lowers his voice to a harsh whisper, bowing his head away from the lingering eyes. “Babies have been made AND born since the last time I got laid and that doesn't even come CLOSE to the last time I had anything even resembling a relationship,” he hisses out, still only met with laughter. 

Groaning, he shakes his head, sinking into an aisle seat as the woman formerly occupying it stands to exit at her stop. 

“This isn't funny Niall,” he snaps though it just encourages his friend to poke fun at him even more over his misfortune. 

“I could start passing out fliers that say 'All campus gays please report to Louis Tomlinson for evaluation' if you'd like,” Niall cackles over the line met by a long groan from Louis. 

“You're really not helping,” he mutters as he stands to step off at his stop, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. “I'm stopping in Starbucks before heading back to the apartment, do you want anything?” he asks as he heads towards the Starbucks less than a block down. 

“There you go, walk in and order a gay!” Niall says, faking serious and honestly really grinding on Louis' gears. 

“Fuck you, Niall,” he mutters as he reaches the door. 

“There has to be some gays in Starbucks! Just start asking!!” 

His frustration and irritation at Niall was reaching a boiling point, his pent up sexual frustration more to blame than he would like to admit. 

He pushes the Starbucks door open hard, the momentum slamming it into the trash station on the other side. All eyes are on him as he raises his voice, pulling the phone away from his ear. “ARE THERE ANY GAYS IN THIS STARBUCKS??” his chest moving heavily than normal with frustration. 

He looks around, suddenly realizing the scene he has caused in his regular coffee shop, all eyes still on him. A few beats pass and most of the customers turn their attention back to what they had been doing before the interruption. 

His shoulders begin to slump as out of the corner of his eye he sees a timid hand start to raise above his head. It might just be the fact that he's sitting by the window, bright sunlight shining through the tinted glass, but his hair seems to shine like a halo, a beacon drawing him in. 

Niall's cackles can still be heard on his phone as he ends the call, a grin growing on his face as they make eye contact, a similar expression mirroring him back. 

The hand waves him over, pulling his textbook towards himself to make room at the table. 

“Was that a dare or are you collecting us for some type of ritual sacrifice?” the boy asks in a slow drawl, smirk widening on his face. Now that he was face to face with the stranger, his dimples and the curl of his lips were his first focal point before gazing into his warm and inviting eyes. 

“Bit of both I guess you could say,” he replies with a flirty smirk of his own, pulling his messenger bag onto his lap. “What ya having?” peering into his almost empty cup resting between them, “I'm buying.” 

“Hot cocoa, whipped cream, cinnamon on the top,” bright eyes replies, pulling the side of his bottom lip in with his teeth. 

“You got it, curly,” he pulls his wallet out of his bag, trusting his school necessities in the care of the resident Starbucks gay. 

While at the counter, he lets himself slyly take in the figure at the table who had turned back to his studies, a light blush dusting his cheeks. Shoulders slouched over, the curve of his spine making him look smaller in the wooden chai, slender legs crossed under the table. His boots looked expensive, a strip of what appeared to be duct tape along the soles each time he bopped his foot to a beat that must be running through his mind. The floral long sleeve button up was tucked into his dark skinny jeans, hardly even qualifying with only 2 buttons at the bottom done up. 

His whole aura was just... different. Quirky, even, yet somehow it fit the strangers mess of long curls and dimpled smile. Maybe Niall hadn't been off point with his suggestions. Just a few minutes in to his annoyed outburst and he could already see himself rolling in the sheets with this lanky fellow. 

“Louie then?” the stranger inquires as he sets their beverages down on the table as he returns. 

“Oh for fuck's sake,” he grumbles as he sees the misspelling of his name on both cups. “Yes, Louie but L-O-U-I-S. Its a curse of a name, no one ever spells or says it right.” With a huff he sends a glare towards the barista with a shake of his head. 

He reaches forward and turns the now empty cup that had been on the table before he arrived, looking for the name scrawled on the side. 

“H...?” he questions after a moment, looking up at him with one arched eyebrow raised, “That's not not very helpful there curly. 

“Heeey,” he says with a cute pouting of his lips in protest, “My family calls me that sometimes!” 

“So its Henry then? Hannibal? Horatio?” 

He can't help the smile that cracks his face as the boy across from him, H, bursts out in a squawk of a laugh, the noise bursting out of him seeming to surprise himself as he covers his mouth with his long fingers to hide his grin. 

“Horatio works,” he says through his laughter, “But its really Harry.” 

“Very nice to meet you Harry, the only other gay in Starbucks,” he offers his hand across the table to shake. His hand feels like it is being engulfed as they shake, both their hands lingering in the gesture just a beat too long. Some of his friends might argue that being small was his biggest complex but the way the size of his hand was offset by a broad palm and long fingers had him blushing. 

And long fingers they were. Adorned with rings on nearly every one, his mouth began to water at the thought of sucking them into his mouth, coating them each with saliva, maybe biting down just a bit. A quiver shot through his spine as he thought of their length, their girth, pushing into him. He shifts in his seat a bit as he realizes what that length could reach inside of him, the angle they would be able to curve into him......

He clears his throat and drops Harry's hand as he is brought back to the present and the fact that they have been awkwardly holding hands in the air across the table. Meeting Harry's amused expression, he cant help but blush from his nose to his ears. 

“Sorry, sorry,” his voice comes out a bit flustered. Harry just smirks as he removes the lid of his cocoa and takes a sip, the whipped cream leaving a bit of a mustache on his upper lip. 

“Um, you have a bit of...” Louis points out when he just leaves the white foam in place. 

“Hmmm?” he plays innocent, looking across the table expectantly. 

“Whipped cream... you have some...” he gestures before, without thinking, he reaches across to swipe the bit from his skin. 

He barely registers the small gasp that leaves him as Harry grabs his hand before it can more more than a few inches from his face. Maintaining intense eye contact, he pulls his hand back, lips wrapping around his digit as he seductively sucks the cream from his finger. A swirling tongue moves warm and soft around the tip of his fingers, eyes fluttering shut with a shaky exhale at the feeling. 

“Fuck,” he mutters out as Harry pulls his finger out with a pop, smirking as he gives his hand back. 

“Thanks mate. I never want to waste any... cream,” the suppressed smirk doesn't suppress any depth to his dimples, the craters caving into his cheeks and making him look like a dirty little cherub. 

“Fuckkkk,” he groans as he covers his face, dick already uncomfortably at alert against his skinnies under the table. 

Harry slowly pushes his chair back, the wooden legs squeaking against the cement floor with the movement. 

“I'm going to head to the bathroom to clean myself up. Can you come make sure I haven't missed any cream on my face?” 

The smirk on his face was almost enough to make another moan roll from Louis' lips but he holds it in, scrambling to his feet to trail him to the bathroom. His bag, wallet, everything, was left on the table but in this moment of weakness he couldn't find it in him to care. He was eager and ready and Harry was so so fit. 

The lock had barely clicked into place before he was being pushed against it, soft pillowy lips pushing against his persistently. It only took him a second to respond, fingers sliding into the curls just begging to be gripped. 

The whimper that escaped him was almost embarrassing but he had acknowledged his desperate state long ago so couldn't dwell on it. 

“Fuck,” he groans as the soft lips move down to his neck, sucking and biting in a torturous way as he pulled at Harry's locks. 

“Not in a Starbucks bathroom... but I'm willing to compromise...” he pulls back just long enough to meet his eyes with a smirk before sinking down to his knees with more grace than a person with such long legs should have. 

“God yes,” he moans, those long fingers working open his button and then his zipper. The air in the bathroom was chilly, more so than the rest of the store, as his hungry erection is released, already oozing precum from his tip. The contrasting warmth of his humid breath felt heavenly, ghosting over his shaft. 

“Definitely a venti,” Harry's voice carries up to him with a hint of a smile. 

“Harold, please,” he groans at the horrible joke, covering his face with his hand as he shakes his head, “This is not the time for bad jokes!” 

Harry just laughs as he wraps his hand around him, experimentally sliding over his shaft several times before those pillowy lips begin placing kisses over the sensitive skin. It had been so long that he could nearly come just from that, biting his bottom lip between his teeth to ground himself to at least last until he was IN his mouth. Which happened in just another beat, warmth engulfing him unexpectedly. 

With all of his attention focused on holding himself back, he paid no attention to the volume and frequency of the moans leaving him until a hand reached up to his mouth, finger pressing past his lips. He sucked eagerly at the digit as he felt his cock slip deeper, hand at the base pumping in torturous strokes. 

Harry's tongue already felt amazing. Louis had been on the receiving end of plenty of blow jobs in his day yet he could honestly say he had never come across such a talented tongue. It was everywhere, swirling around his tip, dipping into his slit, sliding flat along the bottom vein, everywhere. If tongue aerobics existed, Harry was definitely a gold medalist. He tried to mimicking the actions with his own tongue on the finger shoved into his mouth but not quite succeeding with the same grace. 

A hand had moved around to his backside, palm and fingers spread out to grip the globe of his cheek, using the leverage to fuck Louis' dick into his mouth. It became hard to concentrate on the finger in his mouth as his breathing became erratic, too many things to focus on at the same time. He felt overly sensitive from his months of being restricted to his own hand, drowning in the buzz through his body. 

He came hard into Harry's mouth the first time the head of his cock hit the back of his throat, unexpected and unable to give a warning more than a hard yank at his hair as it was happening. Harry took it like a champ, barely sputtering or missing a beat as his mouth milked him through it. 

“Sorry,” he breathes out once his brain had returned, his dick already being gently tucked back into his pants for him, “I just... fuck that was good.”

Harry just smirks up at him, rising to his height and then above, towering over him just a bit. He leans in and pecks their lips together, eyes glinting. 

“Did I get it all?” he asks with a raise of a brow, a devious smirk still stuck to his face. 

“Cheeky bastard,” Louis mutters as he adjusts his pants and shakes his head. 

“Take this back to yours?” Harry asks, his body pressing Louis back into the door once again. 

“Fuck yes,” head nodding quickly, “Mine. Yes, mine.” 

They both scramble to get the door unlocked, trying their best to ignore all the stares from the customers who had no doubt heard his pleasure seeping through the thin door. They shove their things into their bags, tossing them over their shoulders without much care. 

“Just a few blocks that way,” he motions with his head as he grabs hold of his new friend's hand. 

Guess Niall isn't completely useless, he thinks as he yanks the boy down the street, both giggling like horny teenagers. Nope, this time Niall might have been completely right.


End file.
